


stay

by bucktrungle



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: M/M, Pining, Short, idk it's just a short thingy enjoy ig shrug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29609490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucktrungle/pseuds/bucktrungle
Summary: Ever since Hector left on his private mission, Eliwood’s chest has been aching.
Relationships: Eliwood/Hector (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	stay

It had been only a day since Hector had left on his private mission in Ostia. And within a week or so, he would return again. Knowing Hector and his small ensemble of trusted Ostian knights, they would succeed with no trouble at all, and before he knows it the group would be back together again.

Eliwood _knew_ this for a fact. He simply had that much faith in his friend. And yet… something was amiss ever since Hector had been gone. Not with Hector—with _him_.

Eliwood stares at the empty space on the other side of the tent and absentmindedly moves his right hand across his chest, the fabric of his nightshirt crumbling between his fingers.

It hurts. But not in the way it burns after a heated sparring session, fuelled by the rush of adrenaline. Nor the way it beats wearily but steadily after surviving a long battle, stinging in his chest with every dry breath. Not even in the way it aches at night, when everyone’s asleep and it’s just him and his memories of lost loved ones.

 _Heavy_. His heart feels heavy in his chest. Heavy and restless. Like something or someone had grasped it with an iron fist and refused to let go of it. As if it had been imprisoned and it wasn’t his to control anymore.

Eliwood sighs—all he could do was lay there and feel the extra weight in his chest as it presses him further down into the bed.

The night was dead silent and if felt wrong. There were no silent nights in this tent—there was always breathing, the movement of sheets and limbs tossing during sleepless nights, voices whispering softly, and sometimes not so softly. But now there was only the faint crackling of the oil lamp on the nightstand next to him, and the distant chirping of the cicadas outside.

Despite its small size, the tent was entirely too big for him.

Perhaps that was it—that he was simply distressed to be alone again for the first time since the two of them had joined forces. After all, no matter how rough their journey had gotten, Hector was always there next to him at the end of the day. That was something he could count on no matter what. But now that that’s gone, he did not know what was left.

Eliwood had been alone before, but never like _this_.

His train of thought is rudely interrupted as he hears the sound of footsteps approaching through the grass outside his tent. He instantly releases his grasp on his shirt, the white satin escaping his fingers.

 _Hector_ —he can’t deny that it was the first thing that went through his head. But it couldn’t be.

As he sits up to look around him, he sees a shadow draw closer near the entrance of the tent in the corner of his eye. Alarmed and disoriented by the sudden movement, Eliwood instinctively reaches for the rapier that leans against the nightstand—specifically placed there for occasions like these.

The flap of his tent is lifted by an arm, as a tall, slender silhouette enters.

Eliwood sighs and feels his body relax as he identifies the shadow.

“Lyn,” he greets his friend, relieved.

“I’m sorry—did I startle you?” the young girl responds apologetically upon seeing the weapon in his right hand.

Eliwood lowers the sword sheepishly in response.

“Are you okay?” she asks, clearly concerned at his current state.

Eliwood doesn’t respond.

At that note, Lyn enters the tent and the light envelops her form, but not quite enough for Eliwood to see her face.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay without waking you,” she pauses to point at the oil lamp on his nightstand. “Your light is still on.”

So it is—the thought of putting it out hadn’t even crossed his mind, since he wasn’t expecting to sleep tonight.

“Thank you, Lyn, I’m fine,” Eliwood lies.

She simply responds with a “hm”, and Eliwood already regrets lying to her. She walks over to his bed and settles herself down on the ground next to him, with her arms resting on her knees.

Now that he can finally see her face, Eliwood observes as the young girl’s eyes wander around the tent, eventually settling at the empty side and staring at it, like he himself had been doing for what must be hours now.

“Miss him?” she finally asks after the brief moment of silence that followed, and it startles Eliwood. Her gaze is fixed on Hector’s side of the tent.

“Yeah,” he admits, because he knows better than to lie to Lyn.

“He’ll be back in no time, you know,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“I know,” Eliwood agrees.

At that note, Lyn turns around to face him, and she wears a slightly puzzled expression. She simply looks him in the eyes, as if inviting him to continue on. It makes him feel a little nervous.

“Sorry about the…,” Eliwood starts, desperate to change the subject, “...sword thing.”

“That’s alright,” Lyn smiles warmly.

“I’m just a little on edge.”

“I can stay here if you want,” she suggests.

Eliwood shakes his head. “No, you go back to Florina.”

“It’s not the same if it’s me,” Lyn responds, her smile remaining. Eliwood feels his heart drop as her words and her eyes pierce his soul.

Eliwood sighs softly in defeat. She’s got him.

“It’s just—," Eliwood shifts his body on the bed in discomfort, slightly facing away from Lyn. “I can’t seem to focus on anything and my body feels so restless—I’m constantly looking around to see if I can find him somewhere—,” Eliwood decides to cut himself off there, before he says something he’ll regret.

Lyn doesn’t say anything in response, but Eliwood can feel her gaze fixed on him as he speaks.

Eliwood joins in her silence as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’m so used to him being next to me all the time, that I don’t know what to do without him,” he finally concludes. The words escape his lips before he has even realised it, but hearing himself say his thoughts out loud feels like a revelation, albeit an embarrassing one on account of his friend on the ground next to him, taking it all in. Eliwood feels his face heat up a little at the realisation.

“Promise me something,” Lyn responds after a brief but deafening silence, and in surprise Eliwood looks up to face her.

“When he comes back,” she pauses as she stands up, “tell him''.

Eliwood’s eyes widen at the sheer thought of pouring his heart out to Hector like he had just done to Lyn, and he feels his heart pound against its iron cage.

Without awaiting a verbal response, the Sacaen girl walks towards the entrance of the tent, long emerald hair swaying behind her.

“In the meantime, you can count on me to have your back,” she turns around to tell him with a confident look on her face, before leaving the tent. “Get some rest,” her distant voice adds from outside the tent.

“Thanks, Lyn,” Eliwood says for the second time that night, and her arm reappears briefly through the tent’s entrance to wave him goodbye.

Eliwood falls back on the bed, but rest he cannot—his mind still racing at his friend's earlier suggestion.

***

It’s been a long week and all he wanted to do was rest. He didn’t care if the others wanted to have a drink or a feast or whatnot—he simply wanted to go back to the tent. Back to _him_.

In his head he can hear Oswin scold him for being too loud in the camping grounds, and that he should carry a light, and whatever other nonsense would come out of that man’s mouth, but he could care less tonight. Hector slumps his way over to the familiar light blue tent at the back of the camp, pushes the entrance flap aside and waltzes in with the determination of a hungry wyvern with its eyes set on its prey—except the prey being a bed instead of food, in this case. 

Hector has barely set a foot inside and appears to be blocked by something, or rather some _one_ , it seemed. 

“Eli?” Hector asks presumptuously, hoping he’s got the right tent, because it wouldn’t be the first time and likely not the last that he’d intruded a tent by accident.

The person does not reply, but he feels two arms embrace him.

Both his own exhaustion and the darkness around him are taking the best of him, but looking down it is unmistakably Eliwood’s flame red locks that are pressed against his chest plate. The faint but familiar flowery fragrance that enters his nostrils confirms it. He’s unsure of what exactly is going on, but it’s Eliwood, so he compliantly returns his friend’s embrace nonetheless.

Finally, Eliwood looks up to face him, and what he sees shakes him out of his sleep drunk state. He can barely see in the dead of the night, but more than enough to notice that Eliwood’s face looks awful—sure, the boy had always been pale, but now much more than usual, almost like a spectre in the night. Hector feels his mood drop from content to concerned.

“Eliwood…” Hector feels his right hand come up, wanting so badly to touch the other boy’s face, to find out what happened to him, but he lets it drop. “What happened?” he asks instead.

Eliwood does not reply, instead facing away from his friend.

“You look like you haven’t slept in ages.” 

“I—,” Eliwood hesitates to answer. “I haven’t,” he confesses quietly.

“Because I was gone,” Hector suggests, but it’s not so much a question as it is a statement. A feeling of guilt consumes him at the thought that Eliwood neglected his health due to his absence.

Eliwood lets his head drop meekly, his forehead resting against Hector’s chest plate once more.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says softly. His voice is small.

Hector feels himself freeze up. He doesn’t like seeing Eliwood like this, but he doesn’t quite know what to do about it.

He can hear Eliwood murmur something against the steel of his armour, but his tired mind can’t make it out.

“What?” Hector asks out of genuine confusion.

Eliwood looks up to face him, and it’s different than before. His face is still too pasty and his body feels frailer than before, but those azure eyes are full of fire, and Hector finds himself burn up in them.

“Don’t leave me again,” Eliwood repeats, this time loud and clear. More than anything, it sounds like an order.

Before he can even begin to process the words, let alone answer, he feels two hands clutch the tattered red cape that drapes behind him, tugging on his shoulders as the shorter boy reaches up and carefully plants a gentle kiss on his lips. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but somehow still so soft and sweet, that it leaves Hector completely dazed.

The red headed boy in front of him backs down and Hector feels his head spin and his face burn, and none of this makes sense to him, but at the same time it does, because now he can finally answer him.

His hand still gloved in leather and steel, Hector does what he wanted to do before and reaches out to Eliwood, cupping his pale face. Those cerulean eyes look up to him once more, revealing everything to him, and their lips meet once again.

_I won’t leave you again_.

***

Eliwood wakes up to the sound of heavy breathing, and the smell of sweat and rust, and for the first time in a while, he smiles.


End file.
